The Other Bat Brat
by Tarron Lee
Summary: Jay X left the team. She turned around and didn't look back no matter how much she wanted to, but now things are different and she's being hunted. She needs her family but she doesn't want the memories. Are her demons enough to drive her away again or will a cocky archer and a spoiled brat convince her to stay.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** **Feel free to skip** **. Big plans. Big plans readers. Yes it's another O.C. (it's kinda my thing). I'm actually super excited about this one and after the whole ridiculousness of The Shadow which I somehow ended up trying to incorporate zombies into I've abandoned it for the time being to work on this story which features the perfect romance, a spoiled brat, all of our fav team members in the same time line, a character that should have been in the original storyline, and a Shakespearean tragedy.** **I hope you enjoy, please review** **, and if you like this keep an eye out for a revamped Shadow fic.**

Chapter 1

Gotham City 8:00 pm

Moonlight floods across the floor of my tiny apartment. I wince at the light, tempted to snap the curtains back over the window, but instead I back away toward my closet. My face nearly kisses the floor as I trip on my crossbow so perfectly placed in the middle of the room. Cursing, I rub my foot and dread the night to come. Trying to stop criminals in Gotham is like trying to make bunnies go extinct. God knows why The Bat ever started but now he's got a whole gaggle of teens doing the most thankless job in the universe, but I can't think about them now. If I think about them I'll miss them, and I hate missing people.

You don't understand the costumes that supers wear until your sweatshirt gets snagged on a piece of wire fencing. This is why common criminals are so easy to catch but it also means I have to wear a specially designed suit for my non-existent powers that clings to my body in an oddly sexual manner and holds onto blood stains like a security blanket. If anyone ever saw my closet they'd think I had some weird superhero fetish or was a superhero. I'm not by the way. I'm just an idiot. After wrestling myself into the tight material of my suit I pull my medium length silver hair into a sleek bun. You learn to do that too after you lose a chunk of hair in some assholes fist.

I could still turn back now. I've been officially out of the game for a while. If Batman knew how I spent my nights he'd whoop me (but not in pervy way). I could still turn back, but I won't. Because, this is how I stay close to them without actually being with them. This is my thing that helps me sleep at night. The cool titanium of my crossbow is like a grounding weight in my hand, keeping my mind as strong and focused as my weapon. Red Arrow taught me how to use the crossbow, but I don't think he expected me to actually get good at it. My bat leans against the window (for close range fighting). Throwing the window open and grabbing my bat I swing my leg over the sill before the bullet slices through my shoulder. I fall back into the room and collapse against the wall, crouching beneath the shooter's field of view. I scramble to load my crossbow but the bullet in my shoulder makes me weak and I can't fight bullets with a bat, so it's down to plan B.

Plan B equals me running away. Like a wimp. I groan as the jolt of me securing my crossbow to my back yanks at the fresh wound in my shoulder. Stupid bullet. What I'd give to be Superman right now. Stupid penetrable flesh. Grabbing my bat I start to crawl, very, very slowly, with much intermittent cussing, toward the door. A thud behind me turns my head. The grenade smoking propels me forward. I hurtle through the door of my tiny apartment and slam it shut behind me. The blast erupts inside the crummy apartment, buckling the door from the shock. With ringing ears, I crawl away from the dank and musty apartment that has been my home for the past year. Oh well, I was going to move anyway. Seeing how someone is trying to kill me, sooner is better than later.

The hole in my shoulder throbs and gushes blood. I tell myself that it's a minor wound and grind my teeth through the misery. Don't worry, if I die you can say "I told you so". Two apartment building's walls close in on me as I squeeze through an alley. The blood from my shoulder leaves a long streak against the wall. A red trail glares behind me and I send up a silent prayer that my attacker hasn't followed me 'cause if they see that they're sure to find me. Even I can only handle one shot at a time.

I can't say if it's the blood loss or the acid I put in my oatmeal this morning but the sounds of the people above clatter down the fire escape like a song, pounding against my ears. Arguments and blaring music. Drug deals and domestic abuse. A man smoking his last cigarette. The gun whispering to him from the table. The world warps and pulsates, urging me to take a seat and let the assault of Gotham racket lull me into death. I'm not helping anyone anyway, but I keep going. I push forward because if anyone got anything through my thick skull, it's that you don't give up.

I slip into the most elegantly graffitied phone booth in Gotham and collapse against the glass.

"Recognized. Violet X B12." The robotic voice both sooths and terrifies me. In the cave I won't be able to hide. Not from my past. Not from my ghosts. Not from the people that I loved. The people I shouldn't have. Home has a way of doing that to you, messing with your mind and making you into a child, helpless and powerless. I do miss them though.

The zeta-beam drops me into the cave. Not a soul in sight, and I'm still bleeding heavily.

"Hello?" My call is faint and irritating. Familiar red hair brushes across the skin of a curious face. Piercing green eyes peer into mine. I can barely hear the words he speaks as my vision goes fuzzy and a black blanket falls over my mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Mount Justice 10:00 AM

I wake up to the smell of blood and coffee. Unnerving, I know. Groggily blinking my eyes, I blurrily survey my surroundings. My shoulder aches but the throbbing has eased up and I can feel the soft grating of cotton swaps and bandages against skin. The idea of them digging the bullet out churns my stomach which brings me to the smell of the room. Surely the metallic tang in the air is coming from me unless someone else has suffered the ripping of flesh and loss of blood. It's the coffee that's stumping me. Did they perform minor surgery in the kitchen? And if so did they really think now is an appropriate time to drink coffee over my weak pathetic body? Lastly are they going to offer me any?

I squint at the boy standing above me. He glares at me with narrowed eyes and tightly drawn brows. Pure annoyance emanates from him. He waves a cup back and forth beneath my nose.

"Hey kid. Are you going to give me that or just keep teasing me like a dog?" He actually jumps at the sound of my raspy voice, but quickly recovers with an irritated grimace, thrusting the mug in my general direction. Hot coffee sears my skin and I move quickly to rub the fresh burn. Swiping the coffee from him, I study his face suspiciously. I've definitely never met him before but there is something eerily familiar about his features that I just can't put my finger on.

"So what's your name Kid?"

"Damian. And stop calling me kid," he snaps, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the defining of his maturity.

"Sure thing Jr." an actual growl escapes his lips and I have to hold down laughter. "Shortstop?" silent daggers. "How 'bout the littlest Robin?" This catches his attention. Wary eyes gaze at me in obvious but contained curiosity.

"So you do know who I am. I didn't think you would."

"You have a giant R on your chest." He looks down to check whether or not that was a way I could've figured him out.

"Yeah well. Who are you?" The harshness of his voice bothers me but I'm too exhausted to smack some sense into him.

"I'm Jay X. But you can call me Jay" His eyebrows crunch together in either confusion or annoyance. Maybe both.

"That's stupid and not your name." Who the hell is this kid?

"It's not stupid, you probably couldn't even figure out why I go by Jay X, might I remind you that you go by Robin, and of course it's not my real name. Rule number one in this business kid: secret identities are everything." I can't help but feel satisfied at his astounded expression as if no one had said anything like that to him before in his life. Groaning I push myself into a sitting position.

"Are you getting up? You're not supposed to get up. Grayson said that you need to stay resting." Of course he did. Good old Dick, trying to take care of me.

"Well I'm getting up so you better go get him," this elicits another growl. Damian trudges out of the room to go find my old friend. My heart patters excitedly at the memory of talking and laughing, a blonde pony-tail whipping me in the face, emerald eyes twinkling teasingly, Grayson's bright laugh and kind heart, and stormy grey-blue eyes that cut me off at the knees. Those eyes.

"You never could follow orders," I spin around instantly regretting the sharp movement but the pain is nothing compared to the feeling of home at the sound of Dick's voice. Like a natural leader always does, his voice brings a stillness even when he was a short fifteen year old telling me to get whelmed. Too bad I never listen to him.

"You know it. The new suit looks good on you," he laughs and walks over to the cot I'm sitting on. His arms wrap around me and I sigh into the embrace. It's been a long time since I've been hugged. "Hey," I mumble into Nightwing's now filled out figure. Pure muscle.

"We missed you around here, Margo." Squeals echo from out in the hall and both Grayson and I prepare for the green monster that is sure to enter the room. A blur of green skin and red hair smashes into me. The being squishes itself against my face and chatters frantically".

"Oh my god! I heard you were back. It's so good to see you."

"Good to shee you too" I squeak from M'gann's tight cuddle.

"How are you? Were you hurt? Am I hurting you?" M'gann pushes away from me still gripping my shoulders.

"I'm fine M'gann. It's not that bad." Her soft brown eyes sparkle with tears. "Don't cry. I'll be better soon and then I'll get out of your hair," I joke light heartedly.

"Shut up. How long are you staying really?" I don't ever want to leave but I can already hear his voice and even the conversations of my old family won't dull it.

"A while, till my shoulder heals and I figure out my next move."

"Speaking of next moves. Someone is trying to kill you. I'll send Batgirl and Robin out on a reconnaissance mission to find out who's behind it."

"Baby bird or Tim?" Nightwing stifles a laugh quickly recovering from my snark.

"Drake will go. He has more experience and is the official Robin."

"And Damian is what a backup?" Mrs. Martian's eyes widen in shock at the venom dripping from my voice, glancing nervously between me and Dick.

"It's not like that. Damian is uh… a special case. He's here to learn and to be supervised and if Tim chooses he could assume a new mantle soon." It's logical. I trust them. It's not how it feels. Right?

"It sounds a lot like a preliminary replacement to me."

"No you don't understand we have to do this. Damian is Batman's son," M'gann interjects. My jaw drops in disbelief. Batman has a son?!

"Since when? Since when does Batman have a son? That kid is at least ten I've only been gone a year," I ask, trying to wrap my head around the idea of my old Mentor being a father. He makes a great mentor but a father?

"He just found out," Grayson says, "It's only been a few months and he was getting into trouble so we took him in. As Robin he has purpose. You of all people should understand that," he knows why this would bother me so why is he trying to guilt me into accepting it?

"How would I know, _I_ was never Robin." Groaning, I stand up and grasp my shoulder. "I need a walk." With that I shuffle past my friends out into the hallway.

It's a long walk to the hero tributes. Too much thinking. So many have died and we don't talk about because heroes never die right? Batman saved my life. This team saved my life. I would never say that I wish I'd never met them because if I didn't I'd probably be in jail or dead or something but the fact is we're teenagers. Not even all of us have superpowers. There is a reason that my hair is grey and it's not hormones. It was like I aged fifty years that die. It was like I died too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note** : **The events in this chapter took place one year and six months ago, but it is written like Margo is telling a story. Enjoy and** **REVIEW** **.**

Chapter 3

It was an apartment building I think, some run down building condemned forever ago. If we hadn't gone in then maybe, maybe things would have turned out differently. But we did go in, ready to fight our way out of a surely fatal situation. We were supposed to wait for backup. Why didn't we wait for backup?

Robin went in first, surveyed the area and motioned for me to follow. I told myself that it was too late to turn back. We were already in, why go back now? We rounded corner after corner of decrepit hallways lined with old furniture, tech, you name it. This was the place where obsolete items came to die, so what did that make us? When lady death comes knocking we heroes tend to great her enthusiastically. Not me, not anymore. Call me a coward or selfish or whatever you want but I can't face my demons with a hello. Not anymore.

I heard the laugh before he did. So the evil clown was there. We should have called Batman. That's all we should have done: find out if the Joker was there and then call Batman. Of course we didn't. I followed Robin as he lusted after danger, after glory. To say the least, I'm an idiot.

We crept farther toward the center of the building with that awful laugh reverberating off every column. I wish that I could've seen his face, had a target to shoot at, instead of the laugh that was everywhere and nowhere at once. I wanted to have at least some control over the situation and my hand shaking around the handle of my crossbow, my finger resting on the trigger.

Robin skidded to a halt in front of a door, me nearly colliding with the back of him.

"You know I think we should just go in. I'm sure the Joker has a pot of tea going. We could all sit around and make fun of Batman."

"Shut up Jay. I'm going in,"

"You're so funny Jay. Hey you know this was a pretty stupid idea. Why don't we turn around so we can live to die another day? Donuts on me." My high pitched impression was less than impressive to Robin. Once he got a thought in his head, there was no getting it out.

"If you didn't want to be here than why didn't you request to be teamed up with your secret boyfriend? I'm sure he would have loved to have you tag along so you could do nothing and watch him shoot arrows at no one,"

"Shut up Robin. It's not like I care if you live or die or anything." We had apparently settled it because he opened the door letting it swing open. I hate guns. No, I am revolted by guns but in that moment I wished one of us was holding one. Instinctually I grabbed Robin's shoulder. "Wait." I pulled him into a hug, staying a little too long.

"Don't forget to cover your mouth and nose," he said as he pulled his suit up over his face. I did the same, willed my hand to stop shaking, and followed him into the room.

As expected, a Joker's noxious green gas cloud dropped on us. My lungs burned with the effort of not breathing. I could feel us moving faster. I could feel us fading as we tried to escape the toxin in the air. One breath and we'd be dead, absolute worm food.

Robin broke through a door; we collapsed on the other side, choking on stale but sweet air. If a fight could be declared over before it began it was this one. I remember feeling as though the musty walls were living breathing things, as if they were helping conceal The Joker from us. He came out of the shadows with that evil grin plastered on his face. Robin clenched his staff. He had fought The Joker before. I had not. So tell me, who should have had a better chance?

He came swinging at us with a crowbar. My loosed arrow barley missed his head as Robin met the crowbar with his staff. I loaded another arrow, missed again. Another. Missed. If only they'd stop moving I could secure a target. Robin hit the wall next to me. Another arrow. This one hit its mark, exploding against The Clown Prince and sending him flying backwards. Robin groaned and jumped back up but I'd already advanced. My fist hit flesh and I ducked as the crowbar cut the air above my.

"My beef is with The Boy Wonder Dear. I'm perfectly willing to let you walk out of here without a scratch on you."

"Good One. And I'll just hand over my crossbow, tip my hat, and whistle a merry tune too." He laughed and my stomach churned. I didn't like the idea of him finding me funny.

"It's ok. Your distraction will do well enough." Confusion spread over my face and he grinned wider at the sight of it.

"What are you talking about?" I still can't believe I didn't notice the open window, the air whooshing in and out, my missing partner, or my missing weapon for that matter. It took one glance, one second. Joker smashed the crowbar against my face, catching me just above the eye. Blood rushed from the cut, stickying my eye lashes and blurring my vision.

Joker skipped over me toward the window. Before he could get farther, I grabbed him by the ankle, dragging him down. I stood up, faltered and steadied. Laughter rang out in the air. Two kicks, one to the chest and one to the jaw. Joker groaned without losing his grin and I for some reason felt safe enough to turn away from him. Stupid me.

It was a signal from behind. I know it. As I turned around I could see the flick of his wrist and a light blinking from across the alley.

Robin perched on the fire escape, watching someone, waiting with my crossbow, thinking he had the upper hand on the invisible enemy. A cry escaped my lips as I lunged towards him.

"Robin!" He turned towards my voice. My voice like the siren's song a call of death.

The Harpoon came fast, ripping violently through the flesh of his back. My tears came steadily as the cold reality seeped onto his face. He groped the wooden pike protruding from his breast, slicked with blood. My legs went forward and his went back. His knees hit the rail sending him tumbling over.

"JASON! NO! NO! NO! AHHH JAAAAASSSSOON!" I yelled, throwing myself forward. My screams were deafening, my tears never-ending, and my fall bone shattering. My earth stopped, crumbled into a million pieces as Jason hit the ground. The Joker's cackles echoed throughout the building, tormenting me even though he was long gone.

It was seconds, maybe minutes before I heaved myself up. It was a lifetime before I reached his body. His broken figure yanked at the tears hiding in my eyes. I fell to the ground cradling his head. No words could describe the anguish that rushed through me. The sound of cars driving by harmonized with my sobs as night fell over us and then as the Batman carried us home.


End file.
